The Way of Things
by Hermia LaFaye
Summary: Actions have consequences, this is the story of how one weekend alters the course of Jim's life. Warnings: MPREG and Slash.
1. Chapter 1

**The Way Of Things: Chapter 1**

_Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek or any of it's characters, I am not making any money off of this and am merely borrowing the characters for a bit. _

_This story was written in response to a prompt on LJ which asked for Jim and Spock MPREG where the pregnant one informs the other parent. I have written a chunk of it and so feel ok in publishing the start of it. Please be gentle with me, I'm not the best writer in the world and this hasn't been looked over by anyone else so all mistakes are mine. Also I'm stating from the start off that I have a very busy life that leaves only one or two hours a week in which I can write so please be warned of that before you start. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the begining as I enjoyed writing this. _

_Warnings: MPREG and K/S, so if those bother you please don't read this story. _

Spock clutched at the fabric of his Academy hoodie, he shouldn't have come out. He'd known something was amiss when he had left the lab, but had dismissed it as a side effect of the experiment and felt it would resolve itself in due course.

He had left the lab and gone straight to his dorm room, he had not felt like eating (although he knew he should). On the way back one of his classmates from the engineering track had invited him out for a drink. He knew his Mother worried about his social interactions, so he felt it would be logical to acquiesce to the invitation (his classmate was not objectionable and he had enjoyed some interesting discourse with him in the past). He had made plans to meet in a local bar and then left his classmate. He had then meditated for two point four hours before he had readied himself to leave his room. He had felt cold so had put an extra layers on.

He walked to the bar and as he walked he started to shiver, he continued on his way theorizing that the warmth of the bar would offset the chill. He entered the bar and spied his classmate at a corner booth, he was surrounded by various other cadets from a number of different tracks; he had interacted with a few of them and like his classmate felt that they were not objectionable to interact with. The discourse of the evening should prove interesting, and, he hoped that it would prove to be a distraction until he had warmed sufficiently.

The evening was progressing acceptably, the conversation had been stimulating if not loud. Some aspects of it had confused him but the subjects had moved on at a pace that it was not long before he was able to contribute again.

His health however was a concern, he had not warmed up and his chill had progressed into minor shivers. He asked the boy who was sat next to him if he could move closer to the heater. The cadet was kind and let him.

He ordered a tea and held the cup in his hands trying to absorb the heat.

Everything was loud, too loud. He wanted to reach out and put his hand over peoples mouths in order to quiet them.

His mind felt sluggish; he only listened to his companions discourse.

Why was it so cold.

He no longer too notice of his companions.

He felt suffocated and hot, everything was bearing down on him. He wanted to escape.

He was cold, the shivers wracked his body. The lights were very bright, why didn't they turn down the lights.

Someone touched his shoulder, he growled. He should not be touched; how dare they!

Control, he must gain control.

Breathe, in…out…..in…..out.

He apologuised, he was not in proper health. He must leave, he should not be seen like this.

Breathe, in….out…..in…out.

He bid goodbye to his companions stating the need to seek medical advice.

He stood up from the table.

His hands shook.

This could not be happening, why was this happening, he should have been spared, he needed more time, he had no one to help him, what could he do.

Breathe, in…..out….in…out.

He burned, his blood was like molten lava running through his veins.

Control, he must gain control.

Why was everything so bright, his head ached.

Fear deep in his soul. This is the Vulcan heart, this is the Vulcan soul.

Where was his mate, why weren't they here.

Never and always touching and touched.

He needed to leave, put one foot in front of the other.

The night air, it smelled of sweat and sex. It clung to his nostrils.

Right….left…..right….left.

We meet at the appointed place….yet they wouldn't…..she had demanded to be released.

He was not worthy she had said, so he was to burn and die in the dust abandoned and alone.

Parted from me and never parted.

He wanted to laugh, he wanted to cry.

Breathe, in…..out….in….out.

Bodies crushed into his, people laughing and joking.

Their laughter was for him.

Right….left…right….right, no…left…right….left….right.

He walked, the route familiar. What was he to do?

He craved….he burned…he was blind and there was no one to lead him home.

The darkness closed in on him, his heart drowned.

There was laughter, none for him, where was his joy?

There was a voice that cut through the noise, it captured him.

His nostrils flared, sunshine after the rain, a light in the dark.

It fell into him, heaven fell into his lap and a hand clasped his.

Oh…

It's you….

You're here…

Into the darkness there shone a light, and water quenched the heat in his veins. His mind unhindered arched towards the spark and here was sweet relief.

This is the Vulcan heart, this is the Vulcan soul.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Way of Things: Chapter 2**

_Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek or any of the characters. However, this story is mine. I am only doing this for fun and am only borrowing the characters for a little bit. _

_Warnins: Contains SLASH and MPREG, if you don't like it please do not read this story. _

_A/N: So here is the next chapter, I hope you enjoy. Please give constructive criticism. _

_Thank you to **DearNormaJean** for betaing this for me, I'm very grateful. _

_Update: I'm really sorry, but I've had some devasting news and I won't be able to update this in the next while whilst things are sorted out. I hope you understand. _

James T. Kirk had expected to be spending the weekend with his big brother Sam, he had taken three shuttles and a hover car to be in San Francisco and the asshat wasn't even there. Instead, Jim had arrived at the empty dorm room to find an envelope that had been left with his brother's neighbour. Inside were a credit chip, a key, and a note. The note had been succinct, telling him that Sam had been invited on a last minute field to study a plant of some kind, he was sorry, here was some money, don't tell Mom and change the sheets before he went home.

Jim was annoyed, but anything was better than going back to Iowa. So he'd done what any seventeen year old would have done in his situation, order pizza, watch some dubious television, read his brothers personal logs (who the hell was Aurelan?) and then he hit the town to see if he could find someone to corrupt him for the weekend.

The streets were filled with people who were celebrating the end of the workweek; there were a lot of different species and a hell of a lot more cadets in their crisp red uniforms. It was four bars, a manly number of drinks, several rounds of flirty innuendo, two comm codes and a party invite later that he decided to call it a night.

The people who he had spoken to had been nice enough but they just didn't do it for him. His brother had often told him that his high ESP rating turned him into a snob. Jim argued back that what was the point in a pretty face if all that was beneath it was a shallow puddle of nothingness? He'd had a few partners along the way – what was the point in all those lovely teenage hormones if you didn't kick back and let them take over once in a while? He was so lost in his thoughts that he barely noticed the guy until he was literally on top of him.

He hit the sidewalk with a thump and for a moment he was still, misery and desperation overloading him. He breathed deeply, pushed the emotions aside and stood up apologising as he did.

"Oh sorry dude, I didn't see you there. Are you ok?" He held out a hand and took a look at the guy who was still on the floor.

Oh wow.

Jim was a guy and as such he did not swoon. But, if he was going to, the guy on the floor would have been really, really good inspiration for such a move. He had never been one to describe something as beautiful, but the guy on the floor was just that. He had dark hair, chocolate eyes, and skin that was on the right side of pale but interesting. The guy still hadn't moved so Jim reached down and grasped his hand to pull him up.

As soon as they touched, Jim lit up like a Christmas tree. The guy's misery receded and in its place was a joy and happiness so profound that he'd never felt before; and it was all aimed at him. He was so lost in the sensation that he hadn't realized that the guy had stood up and had his arms wrapped around him and really wasn't letting go. The guy was a fraction taller than him and as he took in his features, he noticed the ears. The guy was a Vulcan. He'd never met a Vulcan before but from what he'd read he'd gathered that emotions weren't their thing. This guy, however, was broadcasting so strongly that even passersby were smiling at them.  
>The Vulcan pulled him closer, ground his hips against Jim's, and started to nuzzle at his neck. A slow fire started to kindle in his belly and the Vulcan started to stroke Jim's fingers with his own. Electricity flew up his arms and he felt the Vulcan's lust and desire spike through him. Jim tried to pull away for a moment to catch his breath but the arms around him tightened in response and the Vulcan growled into his neck. He sagged a little, the growling was very, very hot and his groin tightened in response. Jim felt the Vulcan lick a stripe up the side of his neck. That sealed it, let it be said that he'd never looked a gift horse in the mouth.<p>

Jim responded by crashing their lips together, the guy obviously didn't know what to do at first but by God he was a quick study. His body responded in earnest and Jim had just enough presence of mind to pull away for a beat, grasping the Vulcan's wondering fingers and rubbing the tips in kind. It wasn't his kind of thing, but judging by the green tinge on the guy's cheeks it was working for him.

"How about we take this somewhere a little more private?"

"Yeeeessssssss" the Vulcan gasped out as Jim caressed his fingers.

Jim kissed him once more and then asked, "By the way, what's your name?"

"I am Spock"

"Well Spock, I'm Jim and I know a place we can go" and with that Jim led him back to Sam's dorm room.

They rushed through the streets, drawing stares as they pulled into dark spaces occasionally to kiss, to touch. Their desires taking them over and driving them on. They reached Sam's dorm, Jim hastily punching the door code in as Spock kissed his neck and tugged at his clothes. The door opened and they fell onto the room and onto the bed.

Spock was undone, his shields had failed and he was laid bare. In the back of his mind, he knew he should have been concerned but where was the logic in that when his bright golden boy was with him. His mind thrummed in the presence of such acceptance and he could not help but rush in and wrap himself around it. The boy, no Jim, yes his Jim was intoxicating. He could not help himself. Never before had he experienced such desire and compulsion, he did not even want to try and resist.

He reached out with urgent hands, disrobing him as quickly as he could. Why was he wearing so many clothes, did he not realize what an inconvenience this was.

He could not wait; he needed to touch, to feel. So he ripped the fabric away, his Jim would have no need of clothing anymore, he would keep him warm from this day fourth.

As each inch of golden sunny skin was revealed to him, he mapped it out with his hands and lips. Jim's hands reached out to him, he growled and batted them away. He wasn't finished yet.

"Spock, I want to see you," Jim whined.

He paused, thinking for a moment, feeling his Jim's disappointment bleeding through his skin. His Jim needed the same things he did, he needed to touch. Spock wanted him to touch; he needed his Jim to map out his skin. He stood up, ignoring the small sound of protest that his Jim made, and pulled all of his clothes off.

"Spock I wanted to do that."

"Yes, but I have done it faster." he breathed. He shivered without the layers of clothing; the air in the room was slightly chilly.

"Spock are you cold?" Jim asked.

Spock smiled, his bright boy cared for him.

"Yes Jim, but it does not matter, you will make me warm again."

Spock returned to the bed, their naked bodies touching for the first time.

Oh.

This was much better. So much better.

"You are exquisite my Jim." He breathed and with that they lost themselves in each other.

He did not know how much time passed, all he knew was the ebbing and flowing of their passion. Sometimes it was urgent, hot and heavy and others it was slow and gentle. Spock learned every inch of his Jim, knowing where to touch to make him gasp and which caress would make him moan. Jim did the same with him, stamping his very presence into every inch of Spock's skin.

The first time he sank into his Jim, his fingers reached out of their own accord. Their minds met, rising and falling together as their bodies did and, for the first time since he had left that desert place, he was not alone. His mind rejoiced; he had met his other, the one who would fill the emptiness in the back of his mind.

In the quieter times, they explored and learnt of each other. Spock rejoiced at the knowledge that his Jim, his golden boy, did not wish him to be anything but Spock. Jim did not judge him for his small smiles, for his need to be touched. Jim saw the entirety of him and responded with happiness and passion.

They possessed each other thoroughly and entirely. Spock could feel the fires dimming to embers and their couplings became more gentle and less frantic.

Spock could see the light fading in the room. He sank into his Jim, rocking lazily they came together before wrapping themselves around each other and surrendering to the call of Morpheus


End file.
